


Only god can judge me.

by nnq



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Depressed Lance (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Has Anxiety, Lance (Voltron) Has Issues, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Langst, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, lance is bipolar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-22 10:09:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19665295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nnq/pseuds/nnq
Summary: Lance is at his limit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning! This is an extremely serious fic. It involves graphic descriptions of self-harm, contemplation of suicide, and self-hatred. I, myself, have experienced these things, as well as having BPD and Anxiety. I wrote this fic as a continuation of Lance's self-esteem issues in the show, as well as their sudden mood shifts. If any of those things are extremely sensitive topics for you, please, do yourself a favor and click off now. Otherwise, read with caution.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the shitshow.

Lance knew he was fucked the moment he stepped on this ship.

Sure, he was scatterbrained, but when you're slapped in the face with a giant blue robot lion and the concept of being some high and mighty 'defender of the universe', you do tend to forget things that are very important.

Namely his family, and his medication.

It started when he was around 13. Lance had always been a loud and rambunctious child, but all of the sudden, it wasn't just about having high energy. He didn't sleep. He couldn't sleep. And yet, they'd go to school the next day and scream and shout at the top of their lungs with glee as if they had gotten 9 hours the night before.

But god, that first depressive episode was hell.

Lance faintly remembers his mom hollering from downstairs, telling him he was going to miss the bus, but no matter how hard he wanted to, his body refused. Suddenly, the idea of sleeping for 2 days straight was sounding really good right now and- why does it even matter? Lance could never truly concentrate at school anyway. All he ever did was bother people; his parents, his family, his friends...

He was diagnosed with bipolar disorder soon after that, and as years went by, the list only became longer. Anxiety. ADHD- God, why did it fucking have to be him? He had a family that loved him unconditionally, a good upbringing, and most importantly, his life was as good as it got for any kid. And yet, despite him telling that over and over to himself, it didn't matter, because he was fucked in the head.

And that was when he was still taking his medication.

Lance has lost track of how long they've been in space, but he knows it's long enough that there's no chance any of his meds are still in effect. He dreaded this from the very start, knowing that they wouldn't be able to return to Earth until this shitty war was over. He's sitting in his room, palms pressed to his eyes so hard he swears he can see spots, and he's trying desperately to remember the breathing exercises his mama taught him long ago.

He can't.

Probably doesn't help that the team doesn't know either.

It's stupid, but he's scared. Even if he only told Coran, what's the chance of him even having a dupe that was safe to consume? And then, his whole screwed up brain had been exposed for nothing. What if Coran tells Allura, and she thinks he's unfit to be a paladin? The dark corner of his brain whispers 'good, finally you can get the hell out of here and go home', but another corner hisses 'you'll die the moment you leave this ship. you can't even take care of yourself alone, you'll kill yourself trying'. 

Would it be so bad? Killing himself?

He remembers the first time he pondered that on the castle, and Blue had roared so loud that everyone ended up waking up in the dead of night. Only when he silently pleaded with her, feeling the hot glares of his teammates burning into his back, red hot, to drop it, did she comply to stop screaming her head off in rage. Blue had been a solace for Lance back then. Everytime his mind wandered to dark, self-deprecating thoughts, she would mentally snap him out of it, sending love and concern and everything he needed to hear: you are important. you are useful. you are talented, and skilled, and my paladin.

Of course, the lion change had been a wake up call for him. When he saw the barrier Blue had put up, it was as if every lingering reminder of her care had been washed away. He had been locked out, cut off from the only thing that had been rooting him on, and pushed to the side: He had to take the hand me downs.

Red had the same mental bond with Lance as blue did, but when Lance's mind filled with hatred and depression, she was unsure how to respond. She stayed silent, watching and seeing and not judging but just- contemplating the state of her new paladin. What could she do but allow him to flourish in battle, in a weak reminder of his skill and strength? She knew that no matter what she said, it wouldn't matter, because the thoughts would only keep going and going and would never stop until lance could finally be fixed.

God, did that confession hit Lance like a truck. It was true though, wasn't it? He was broken.

A 7th wheel, a nobody, a replacement. Just there to fill the gap.

He stopped coming to breakfast or dinner, only briefly coming around for lunch, only because he knew he had to keep his strength up somewhat to not be a total burden in battle. He never stuck around long, and the team didn't notice. That was good. It was good that the team could be happy and joke without him, because deep down inside Lance, he knows his time is running short. He only leaves his room for mandatory training: he has to prove he's useful somehow. And yet, every time, he can feel Allura's eyes boring into the back of his skull as he continues to disappoint her. It's never compliments. It's always criticism, isn't it? Maybe that's really what he needs, because he can't seem to get a grip on anything these days, whether it's his stability or his gun. 

God, he misses Keith.

At least back then, he had a purpose, even if it was to be an annoyance. The team would laugh at their bickering and scold their fighting, but at the end of the day, Lance and Keith were just that; Lance, and Keith. The same Keith that picked him up off the ground and smiled at him so softly, Lance could feel his heart skip a beat, despite how concussed he must've been at that point. The Keith that would taunt him and make fun of him, but the look on his face would say otherwise. The Keith that told him not to worry, that things would work themselves out, and he had a place in the team.

But Keith isn't here, and Lance is left feeling like he's missing the half of his never-completed whole.

Lance remembers the first time Keith came to visit the castle, remembers the lift of his heart and the sharp intake of breath when that mask was removed and replaced with such a wonderful face.

He also remembers that Keith didn't say a word to him that whole time, after watching Keith make his rounds with the rest of the team. Even worse, his eyes would stray to him occasionally, clouded with some emotion Lance couldn't quite decipher, only for Keith to look away, eyes on the ground.

Yeah, maybe that hurt him a little bit more than blue leaving. A lot more, actually.

And he's crying now.

God, why did he have to be so fucking emotional? None of the other paladins stayed in their rooms all day and had meltdown after meltdown over something so trivial. But deep down, Lance knows he got attached. Keith was more than just a crush, he was Lance's only escuse to _try_.But he took it for granted, and now he's left reeling in rejection.

God, Lance hated it. He hated his stupid head and stupid heart and stupid whole self that couldn't hold it together for one minute solely because Keith didn't pay attention to him. Well, and the fact that the team thinks he's a fucking idiot. But Lance had already accepted that; he gets it.

He thinks he's an idiot too.

Vaguely, Lance can feel his nails digging into the meat of his wrist, digging into the cuts he had made only several days early after an especially brutal mission. Lance missed a shot, and Pidge ended up getting hit by the droid he didn't kill. What if that had been fatal? What if Lance missed again, and lets one of his teammates get killed? The only thing that soothes his mind is the pain. He knows how stupid it is, he knows he swore to never go down that road again, but it's just. Too. Much.

He realizes his ears are ringing, and picks his head up from where it had been comfortably settled on his knees, now becoming aware that an alarm is going off from the hallway. Looking around him, he can see smears of blood on the floor from his fingernails, but he ignores it, shakily getting to his feet and taking a deep breath. He's quick to pull his suit on, avoiding getting any more blood on his clean armor. The area around his bed looks like shit, but he isn't concerned. There's been worse mess left in his room. 

Nobody will notice, anyway.

He exits his room, walking at a brisk pace down the hall, ignoring the way his stomach lurches and his head spins with every step. He knows Allura would've gotten on the comms by now if it was an attack, so he assumes it's a meeting of some sort. Mission debrief, one-sided planning, whatever. It didn't matter. Lance would slip back into the shadows and head back to his room in a few minutes either way, because he knows he's not needed. The moment he walks into the control deck, he can already feel the anxiety crawling up his throat; everyone's already here.

Allura pointedly looks at him. "Late at usual, Lance." She says with a sigh, already turning to the screen. Nobody says anything. Lance is grateful.

Kolivan is going on about missions and success and such, and it seems like everyone's enamored with the conversation: a perfect time to make his escape. He's already turning to leave the room when a name catches his attention.

"- Keith-"

He halts mid-step, now listening.

"- Will be returning to the castle for a few days as we figure out the rooming situation. My apologies for the short notice, Princess, but with the castle only a galaxy away..."

Allura's shaking her head, looking upwards with a smile. Lance bets she's hoping Keith will stay this time, and Voltron can finally get rid of Lance. "No need, Kolivan. It is quite fine. Keith is always welcome in the castle, as well as any other... ah... known Blade of Marmora." She finishes, a bit awkwardly, but Kolivan seemingly doesn't sense the distrust, simply nodding and turning to say something to a member beside him. He looks back at the screen. For some reason, Lance feels his eyes wander to him, still standing still by the door.

"The transport ship will be there shortly. The Blade of Marmora thanks Voltron profusely." He bows slightly, and Allura mirrors him, before the screen turns black and disappears into nothingness. Lance knows when it's his cue to leave, and he silently disappears into the dark hallway before Allura can turn around to address the team. As he travels back to his room, the sound of excited chatter fades to the hum of the ventilation in the castle, only broken by the sound of his door sliding open and shutting behind him. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. 

"No point in waiting." He mutters to himself, stripping off his armor and flinging himself on the bed after putting on a big, baggy t-shirt he found at the space mall. He practically wears it more than his paladin suit at this point; it reminds him of the days where he'd steal one of his father's old shirts and put it on every night before going to bed; drifting asleep to the smell of motor oil and shaving cream. This shirt smells like nothing. Probably something close to tears and blood, but he's gotten used to it.

Times like this, where he can't sleep or do just about anything, Lance's mind always wanders to the same thing. At first, he tried to beat around the bush, but he's far too gone to even consider it.

What if you killed yourself?

His fingers have already closed around the razor-blade below his pillow; something he had to rip out manually from some kind of device Coran gave him to stay looking 'fresh', but it gets the job done well enough. Most of his scars are on his left arm, but the most recent ones are on the right; still bloody from when he ripped them back open. Lance stares at the cuts, not moving, thinking back to the ecstasy he felt when he finally gave in and cut again. That was... what? A month ago? Two? He has no idea, but his life was finally going uphill ever since he started. Well, until he ends up actually killing himself, though that could be considered uphill as well. 

His mind is buzzing; a combination of white noise and high pitched noises he can't decipher. He doesn't breathe as he lifts the blade to his most shallow cut, pressing it against the healing skin and inhaling sharply as it breaks the beginning of a scab forming. He can almost feel the blade individually lighting up every strand of flesh it tears, bringing tears to his eyes, but not because of the pain. Because he's so fucking weak, so fucking worthless and full of despair that he needs to bleed the pain out.

He doesn't register the sound of knocking until he heard Keith's voice.

"Lance?"

He freezes, blade still pressed to his skin and the tears freely flowing, and it takes him a moment to throw himself into action. He scrubs at his eyes, doesn't bother wiping off the blade before shoving it under his pillow, and his movements are frantic as he pulls on a pair of shorts and covers up the pillow with his blanket, even though he's sure Keith won't be coming in to his room. He almost doesn't register that his wrist is still bleeding until he's almost at the door, looking around frantically as Keith knocks again. 

"You know, I was just hoping we could talk for a minute, uh.."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

As quietly as possible, he rushes into the bathroom, pressing tissues to the cut and gritting his teeth as the pain shoots up his arm. Tossing the bloody tissue on the trash, he heads back out, but not before throwing on his signature coat. He prays no blood will stain through; it's a bitch to get out.

When Lance swings open the door, Keith's fist is raised as if he was going to knock, and he jolts back in surprise. There's a moment of silence between them. Lance prays to whatever god is out there that he doesn't look like hes just been crying. He tries not to lose his mind over the fact that Keith is standing right in front of him.

"Hey." He croaks, and he coughs before he takes on his normal tone. "Hey, what's up?"

Keith stares at him for a moment, expression unreadable before he rubs the back of his neck. "Uh, I'm going to be staying here for a few days. The castle, I mean. I just got here."

Lance blinks, trying to absorb the words he's hearing. He crosses his arms and ow, fuck, he forgot about the open wounds. He fights back a flinch. "I'm aware." He says, plainly, and he's honestly wondering why Keith is here. It's obvious he doesn't care about Lance, but he thought it was something, well, important.

A flash of hurt crosses Keith's face for a moment, and it almost takes Lance aback. Did he say something wrong? Keith swallows.

"I was just... kind of surprised you weren't at the deck with the rest of the team." He says, hesitantly, and Lance just stares. Seriously? Keith has the audacity to be surprised? He can't refrain from letting out a quiet laugh, and Keith's frown deepens.

"Dude, if you're going to tell me that I've been kicked out of Voltron, just say it already." Lance says, resting his hip against the doorway. Keith rears back like he's been slapped.

"What are you talking about?

Lance is going to fucking lose it.

"Is that all?" He says, darkly. "I was kind of busy before you interrupted." He feels bad being cold to Keith, his heart is aching, but he can feel his cuts pulsing so strongly it resembles a heartbeat, and he realllly wants to ride this feeling out as long as it lasts.

It's like a switch is flipped, and Keith is now in his face, eyebrows furrowed, teeth clenched. "What's wrong with you?" He spits, and Lance's inhales sharply. "What's your problem? I come to say 'hi' and that's all you have to say?"

Lance's mind is whirling with about a thousand emotions right now, even though he knows that this is typical Keith behavior. He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what to do, just stares and stares. Keith's staring back, but his gaze falls to the ground, and Lance can't get a word in before he's speaking. 

"Listen." Keith mutters. "I know we're not on the best of terms but.... I guess... I was looking forward to seeing you again." He clenches his fist. "But I get it. At the end of the day, we're always fighting, huh? I just thought something had changed." He finished, not meeting Lance's eyes. 

Lance can feel the blood making its way down his wrist, but it's the least of his concerns right now, because his eyes are burning and he tries to shut the door, only to grab his wrist in pain after brushing against the doorway. He can't hold back the small hiss of pain, and Keith looks up, eyes narrowed.

"Hey, are you OK?" He questioned, reaching out to touch Lance's wrist but not before he violently rips it away. He tries to shut the door, but Keith's foot is already blocking the way and SHIT, if only he just stayed quiet-

"Lance. Let me in." Keith says, demanding, and Lance can't even say a word, he's already crying too hard. Before he knows it, Keith is inside and looking at him with so much concern and confusion, he can't do anything but garble out "Shut the door, please, Shut the door."

The moment Keith presses the button, Lance crumples to the floor, and Keith's on his knees in seconds, hands wary and not sure what to do, just floating uselessly as Lance sobs and sobs and can't stop. He says nothing, instead, cautiously wrapping his arms around him, and it only makes Lance cry harder.

Keith moves to pull away, but Lance is pulling him close. "Please. Please stay." And Keith doesn't hesitate to fully envelope him, letting his teammate press his face to his suit and cry, soaking through the fabric. How long had it been since Lance had been held? Even a hug? Lance has no idea. For Keith, It feels like a decade before Lance slowly pulls away, eyes red and god- he looks so tired. Keith instinctively reaches out to cup his face, and Lance sighs, leaning into the touch. 

"What's going on, Lance?"

Lance hesitates, swallowing before looking down at their sleeve. Before Keith can see the blood seeping through, he rolls it up, hissing at the fabric rubbing against the cuts, and he hears Keith choke at the sight. 

Apparently, he didn't expect that.

It looks worse now: blood smeared across his arm and the cuts almost black with the blood drying over in large clumps. He looks away, not able to stand the shame as Keith's eyes move up his wrist, seeing the scars from long ago.

"What happened?" He whispers, and his tone is full of pain. Lance tries to speak, but the words don't come out, and Keith waits patiently as Lance pulls himself together.

"I can't do it, Keith. I can't do this." Lance finally says with a sigh. His chest feels empty, but so much lighter now that he's said it. "There's..." He trails off, grasping Keith's arm tightly. 

"There's something seriously wrong with me. I'm really fucked." He finishes, tilting his head forwards to rest on Keith's chest, the tears now dry and itchy on his cheeks.

Keith gulps, Lance can feel his heartbeat, so strong and so fast, and he wishes that it wouldn't take a near suicide attempt to be in Keith's arms. The thought makes him hum, and Keith's worried, purple eyes are peering down at him.

"We need to go to the medbay, tell the team about what's going-"

"NO!" Lance jolts away, before covering his mouth with a hand as Keith blinks in shock. "Please, Keith, you can't tell them."

Keith's eyebrows furrow, and- oh, he's angry again.

"Lance, you could've bled out on these floors and nobody would have even known until they went into your room! We need to get you professional help, even if it's not here, we'll go somewhere, we'll-"

"They wouldn't have come looking for me."

Keith freezes, and Lance won't meet his eyes. Cautiously, he lifts Lance's head up with a hand. "You can't possibly think that, can you? You're part of Voltron. The team needs you." Lance looks back down at the ground, and Keith pushes the hot rage back down his throat; he's not angry at Lance, he's angry with his brain telling him all these lies and making him do horrible, horrible, things.

"You haven't been here for a while, Keith." Lance says, so softly, Keith could hardly hear him. "When you left." Lance gulped. "I already was the seventh wheel, but..." God, how long had it been since Lance slept? Keith subconsciously rubbed his thumb against a lock of hair framing the side of his face. "..they don't care, Keith. They never noticed." He chokes out, tears reappearing in his eyes and Keith's rage gets whiplash from being replaced with terror. Never noticed?

"Lance, how long has this been going on?" Keith asks, gently, but Lance shakes their head, trying to hold back the tears. Keith can feel the anger bubbling back up; surely it couldn't have been for long, had it? Voltron would've noticed. They had to. "Lance" they repeat, and he finally chokes out a sob.

"Since... Since you left. Left team voltron... It was minor then, it just got... worse and worse."

Keith feels like he's going to explode. Lance keeps going.

"You know, I just... it wasn't you leaving that triggered it, I just... you and me, at least we had each other, you know? Even if you didn't feel the same. Maybe you didn't rely on me as much as I relied on you but- Suddenly, the glares and the criticisms from the team felt..." Lance swallows. "So much harsher." They chuckle darkly. "That was around the time I stopped hanging around. It felt like every time I had something to say, they would only be more disappointed in me, so I..." His face smoothed into a neutral expression. "I didn't bother."

Keith can't tell if he's going to cry or storm out of Lance's room, ready to nearly strangle Shiro, Allura, _whoever_ allowed this to happen. "Why didn't you tell me?" Keith said, shakily.

Lance pulls away, looking at Keith's face looking both hurt and offended. "Well, you didn't have much time for me, did you?" Lance said as calmly as he could, but it still turned out bitter. Keith's eyes widen.

"Lance, I..."

It seemed like Lance's eyes got several shades darker, and he rests his hands in his lap. "At first, I thought, maybe you were just busy..." they murmured "...but as the returns kept going, and you not even sparing me a word..." he lifts his hands to his eyes. He won't cry. It doesn't matter if Keith wants to talk to him or not. Why is this such a big deal? Why does Keith want to know? Surely, he realizes he ignored Lance.

"...I know when I'm not wanted."

There's a beat of silence between the two, and when Lance finally looks up, tears were welling in Keith's eyes. Before Lance knows it, his hands are being taken and held with Keith's own.

"God, Lance, I am so sorry... I..." They choke, and Lance only stares in bewilderment. They're sorry? They didn't seem sorry those months before. "..I was too far lost in my own feelings to think about yours." He continues, and Lance's brows furrow in confusion.

"Keith, what..."

"I.." Keith's face is red now, but he looks ashamed, guilty, miserable even. "I like you, Lance. A lot. And..." He takes a deep breath, meeting Lance's eyes. "I was keeping my distance because, every time I saw you... I wanted to stay, I wanted to be here with you, I wanted you." Lance's eyes widen, and they flush, finally realizing what Keith means.

God. He's an idiot.

"Please don't say that." Keith murmurs, and fuck, he just said that out loud, didn't he? He tries to meet Keith's eyes again, but they dart away, nervously.

Keith just confessed to him.

"I'm sorry, I know it's alot, I just... I never meant to ignore you. I was just being selfish and- mmph!" Keith's sentence was cut off by a pair of chapped lips meeting his own, and ok, this is happening. Lance is crawling closer, leaning into the kiss, and Keith can't help but wrap an arm around Lance's waist, keeping him near. It only lasts a few seconds before they both pull away, although a bit reluctant.

"I. Um." Lance stutters, face red. "I like you too. So much, actually. Actually, kind of in an obsessive way and uh, that's why I was so torn up when you left, probably..." He laughs nervously, and Keith still seems to be processing his words after the kiss. Lance rubs his bicep, continuing. "I know now is probably not the time, but, you said it, and I was feeling impulsive and- I've got like, so many things wrong with me and, to say the least, I get really attached to people and make really bad decisions sometimes but-"

"Lance."

It only takes that for Lance to quiet, his full attention now on Keith. 

"Of course, I wish you told me earlier... but... It's ok, I'm here now, aren't I? And you're with me." Lance heart swells, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he smiles, causing Keith's face to redden. They put their foreheads together, not saying anything for a while, just being close, before Keith remembers the situation at hand.

"Shit, Your cuts." He hissed, and Lance looked down, flinching. He'd forgotten about them too. Before he knows it, though, He's being picked up and- _wow _, this is unnecessary as all hell, but he's not about to complain, though he blushes brightly.__

"Keith, please, I can walk."

"Maybe I just feel like carrying you."

Lance says nothing, instead opting to press his face into Keith's shoulder, wondering idly how the fuck this nightmare ended up turning into something so, so good.

Keith stops walking, and Lance is about to squirm out of Keith's arms before he's set down, very, very gently, on his bathroom stool. He says nothing as Keith ruffles through the multiple cabinets and drawers of his spacious bathroom, instead, zoning out until he feels a warm pair of lips place a kiss on his cheek. He can't help but smile as Keith sits down next to him, looking fond as ever, that is, until he wets the washcloth in his hand, turning back to Lance. 

It's one thing to show your wounds. It's another thing, allowing someone to clean them. Lance knows it intimately. 

"You... don't have to do this. I can do this myself, I just.. I just needed someone to give me a reason." Lance says, quietly, rolling up his sleeves. "You don't have to treat me like a porcelain doll just because I was too weak to-"

"Shut up." Keith mutters, making Lance wince. Keith's eyes widened.

"No, No. That's not what I meant. I...." He sets the wash cloth down, gesturing with his hands, and Lance gets that Keith wasn't trying to be mean. "I'm not doing this because I think your fragile." He hunches over, running a hand through his own bangs. "Fuck, Lance, you're one of the strongest people I've ever met. I just..." He looks wistful. "Back when I flew the black lion, I was so angry at everything. Shiro was gone, and everyone expected me to be just like him, and I _couldn't_. And even though we bickered and disagreed, at the end of the day, you would always be there to pick me back up, even if it was accompanied with a taunt. You didn't expect me to be Shiro. You just wanted..." He hesitated.

"You to be you?"

Keith nodded, cheeks red as he pondered for a moment, speaking softly. "That's why I'm doing this. You deserve to be cared for, and supported, just like you did for me." He picked at one of his hangnails idly. "I just want my- the old Lance back. N-Not the one that's a facade, you just pretending- just you, being happy and healthy, is all I need." He finished, and Lance inhaled deeply, raising his left hand to cup Keith's face. 

"I love you, Keith."

For a moment, Keith froze, but it was quickly replaced with a smile that Lance could only describe as 'enamored', his face lighting up like a sunburn. He looks back down, starting to wipe the blood away with gentle brushes of the washcloth.

"I love you too, Lance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be official 'end' of the story, unless I make a sequel of sorts. While I do have a few ideas, I'd like to leave it up to the readers to decide how it continues, whether it's a confrontation or something else...
> 
> By the way, my intent of this story was NOT to romanticize depression, suicide, or mental illness. As someone with BPD, It's hard to distinguish rejection from unintentional harm, and it can lead to extremely strong mood shifts or depression in itself. Keith and Lance's relationship is not based on pity or depression, but genuine care and concern for one another, It just so happens to come to a head at a time when Lance is struggling.
> 
> Thank you for reading. Feel free to leave a comment <3


	2. Confrontation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance sleeps. Keith seethes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! Please, read my note at the end of the chapter. It clears up some things that happen in the story and will open an opportunity for you guys to decide what happens next. Thank you for reading! Enjoy.

After carefully cleaning and dressing both of Lance's arms, Keith guided Lance back to his bed, ignoring the stains and scratches along the floor that Lance flinched upon seeing. It was obvious that Lance was feeling ashamed about being seen in this... _state_ , no matter how much Keith assured him that there's nothing to be ashamed of, especially when it comes to something you can't control. Lance simply pulled him close and said nothing, instead, opting to bury his face in Keith's neck, who had no complaints, opting to run his fingers through Lance's hair as their breaths became slower and quieter.

Once Keith pulled away, Lance was fast asleep, and Keith couldn't help but press two of their fingers against Lance's neck, in an act of instinct. His pulse ebbed at a normal pace, of course, but they couldn't help but worry. Judging by the bloodstains on Lance's jacket, Lance had already lost a good amount of blood.

God. What if he'd been too late?

Keith pushed away that thought, knowing well that over-analyzing it would end up sending him into a frenzy before he knew it. Instead, they stared at Lance's peaceful face and the bags beneath his eyes.

Keith has always been a self-conscious person, that was why he stupidly avoided Lance in the first place, but he also was a very possessive person. In the earlier days of voltron, he remembered the hot white rage crawling up his throat whenever Lance flirted with Allura, or slung a casual arm around Hunk or Pidge. Obviously, it was irrational; Lance could touch and talk to whomever he pleases, but Keith couldn't help the fact that his mind refused to acknowledge this. The most he could do was ignore it, and never mention it to anybody, not even Shiro.

Shiro.

Keith felt that same anger bubble up in his throat, but this time, it left a bitter taste on his tongue. _Resentment, Disappointment, Betrayal_ , he thought, belatedly. He never wanted to consider it; voltron was the only family he had, but Lance was the only love he had, and he'd been hurt _badly_. To say it was unacceptable was an understatement. If what Lance said was true.... Or believed was true... 

He wouldn't know what to do. No, he'd know _exactly_ what to do, but he prayed that it wouldn't be the case.

Subconsciously, he realized his hands had curled into fists, teeth grit together, and he forced himself to relax. Lance had begged him not to tell the team, but he never said anything about questioning them. 

Keith's expression softened, and he leaned down to press a kiss to Lance's forehead, a small smile appearing on his face even as he slept. Keith felt his heart melt, and he continued to watch him for a moment, before he finally pulled himself away, quietly getting off the bed and leaving the room, but not before writing a note. 

_"Lance,_  
Just went to go talk to the team for a little bit. Don't worry, your secret is safe. Sleep well.  
_Keith._ " 

\--------------

Judging by the stream of conversation faintly heard from the dining area, Keith assumed the team had already started eating. He pushed back a scowl at the thought that they were _used_ to eating without Lance. Vaguely, Keith knew he probably looked not too pleased at the moment, but he didn't care at this point. He entered the room, and all eyes were on him, excited expressions turning to confusion.

 _Good_ , Keith thought.

"Keith! Finally! We were worried you might've gotten caught up with training. Please, help yourself." Allura exclaimed, a smile on her face as the others looked to him for a response. Keith took a deep breath, silently, mentally holding back a vicious response, and walked to his usual seat, Lance's absence clearly obvious by the empty chair next to him.

"I wasn't training." He said, flatly, sitting down at the chair and reaching for a plate, if only to distract himself. Hunk tensed at his tone, but seemingly, Pidge didn't catch on.

"Seriously? We were looking everywhere for you! We even checked the hangers to see if maybe you were bonding with Black, or something." She chirped, tilting her head towards him. Keith couldn't hold back a scoff.

"Obviously not everywhere."

Awkward silence followed, only broken by the 'clang' of a fork being set down. 

"Are you feeling alright, Keith? Did something happen?" Shiro asked, gently, brows furrowed and looking at him with concern. The rest of the team mirrored the look, and Keith felt _sick_.

"Where's Lance?" Keith spit, and suddenly the awkward silence became much colder. Allura pointedly looked away, scowling a little as Hunk and Pidge focused on their plates.

"Lance has decided to not join us for dinner anymore." Allura said, her eyes narrowing as if she'd seen an especially repulsive animal and flicked it away. "He's been lacking lately, in all honesty. I'm not surprised." 

Keith's hand gripped the fork so hard he thought it would bend. Before he could say anything, Shiro spoke up. "Allura's right. We've been considering the idea of, well, making him step down from the position of red paladin." Shiro said, rubbing the back of their neck in something akin to discomfort. "He just hasn't been fit for the job. He's not taking things seriously, you would know, Keith." Keith couldn't believe the things coming out of Shiro''s mouth. "Actually, we were wondering if you'd like to be the red paladin again, Keith." Shiro smiled at Keith. "We could really use-"

"No."

Shiro blinked, taken aback. "What?"

Keith had gotten up, hands gripping the table, eyes blown wide in anger. "I'd rather die than become the red paladin again." He spit.

Allura gasped, forgoing her meal to stare in shock at Keith, equal parts surprised and angry. "Escuse me?!" 

"I know what I said. Fuck you."

Now it was Pidge's turn to get up, eyebrows furrowed. "What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously, what's your problem?"

Keith slammed his hand on the table, scowling, and everyone flinched. "What's wrong with _me??_ What's wrong with _you???_ " 

"Keith, this kind of behavior is unacceptable. If there's a problem-" Shiro started.

"Oh, _my_ behavior is unacceptable?" Keith bitterly laughed. "Can we please talk about the fact that _none_ of you seem to give a shit about your 'Red Paladin?"

No one knew what to say for a moment, and Keith sneered, continuing.

"You know, I didn't want to believe that you guys could be so fucking self-absorbed and uncaring, but wow, I really did get the full package here, shittalking and all." Keith growled, and Shiro stood up, shoulders hunched.

"That's enough, Keith!"

"No! It clearly isn't enough, because none of you want to even pretend for a minute that you care about anyone than yourself!" Keith yelled, pupils small against his yellowed whites of his eyes. Allura took a step back, horrified. Keith turned to her, and she took another. "You want to know why Lance isn't coming to dinner anymore? _Because he doesn't want to._ He despises you guys! He's done nothing wrong, and all you can do is tear him down!" Keith snarled, and out of the corner of his eye, Keith saw Hunk staring at the table intently, tears brimming in his eyes. "He's- He's'" He had to take a breath to calm down, he couldn't say anything about Lance's current state right now, he promised, but god, he was so tempted to, just to make the team feel like utter shit.

"And YOU!" Hunk looked up, startled. "You were Lance's best friend, and you did _nothing_ to help."

Seemingly, that was the last straw for him, and he started to cry, and Keith scoffed. Pidge was now staring at him wordlessly, Allura shaking and scared against the wall, and Shiro painfully unreadable, face blank. 

"You guys are pathetic. I didn't want to believe it, but you all really are a bunch of shitty people playing hero."

He turned sharply, unable to handle the situation at hand. All of it was true. How could he ever have believed otherwise? Why'd he even bother giving them a chance? He should have just taken Lance, left, and never came back, because he can feel the anger searing through his bloodstream and he wants to... wants to... do something he shouldn't do. He knows he's not even giving the team the opportunity to fix this, but he can't help it. Keith's never been the kind of person to be rational about things. 

When he was a child, Keith never truly got attached to anyone. He got tossed from fosterhome to fosterhome, every time, he wondered if someone could fix him from the underlying feeling of frustration underneath his skin. When he met Shiro, he knew it hadn't gone away, but finally, finally, he was somewhat loved, somewhat wanted. He didn't want anything else.

Which is why it was startling, what Keith felt, when Shiro introduced him to Adam. Keith saw Shiro as a brother, no doubt about it, but just the thought of someone possibly being more important than him to Shiro was devastating. He hated him, for absolutely no reason. He knew it wasn't fair to Adam, when Keith left Shiro's dorm every time he stopped by, how he refused to even say a word to him, but Keith loved Shiro. Why wasn't that enough for him? For years, he felt sick at the possibility that he was jealous of Adam. He laid awake at night wondering what was wrong with him, why he felt so strongly, why he couldn't just accept the fact that Shiro could care about them both?

He always had an inkling that something was wrong with him, but instead of letting it come to light, he buried it deep, deep below. He coped over time. He learned to respect Adam as a person, and in turn, Adam had some sympathy for him. But they were never close. Even now, milions of lightyears away, he knows he doesn't miss him. He wishes he could, but he felt a sense of satisfaction over the fact that Shiro only had him now. 

And then he met Lance. Charming, Confident, Affectionate Lance who loved everyone, but only cried into Keith's shoulder for comfort. He knew it was horrible, but it felt wonderful knowing that Lance loved him too, even when it was revealed in such a horrible way. That Lance trusted him, and needed him, and wanted him, more than anyone else. Maybe Keith was crazy for falling so hard, but he was already crazy. And the moment Lance told him about the team not caring, he knew he would go off the rail. 

So he squeezes his eyes shut, clenches his fists, and turns to leave the room, ignoring Shiro's pleadings of 'Keith, please', ignoring the hollowness in his chest when the begging does absolutely nothing to quell the anger that Keith holds, almost hatred, against the person he loved and trusted for so long. 

He just walks away, feeling only the smallest sliver of satisfaction, knowing that he could have done much better. He could have done so much worse, made them truly pay...

...But that was for another day, he thinks, distantly, walking down the dark hallway he came from, back to Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. I'll be honest.
> 
> Keith is coded to have BPD in this chapter, and I'll explain why. The reason why Lance and Keith are so passionate about one another is because they are very impulsive, strongly emotional people. I've made an edit to the first chapter in which I've removed Lance having bpd, not because Keith will have it instead, but because how I wrote Lance is not how a typical person with BPD would act, based on my own experiences. Keith, on the other hand, had a crush on Lance for quite a bit of time before confessing, but even so shortly after initiating a relationship with him, is very intensely attached to him. He is possessive over the people closest to him, and feels very strongly about said people's actions and feels like he personally must right people who have wronged them, which is accurate to the typical emotions felt by those with BPD, at least for me. Do not get me wrong, just because Keith has BPD does not make him a violent, angry person. He's in a constant battle with his disorder much like the rest of us, and he struggles to calm these intense emotions down.
> 
> Wow, ok, that was long. I just wanted to explain thoroughly my thought process involved with that, and sure, most people wouldn't care, but like. I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea about that!! 
> 
> Anyway, I know I said this would be the last chapter, but... again.... it isn't really an 'ending' as much as a confrontation of the team. If we're being real here, I have no idea how to end this story. Maybe Keith does run away with Lance? Maybe the team finally gets their shit together and apologize to lance? I don't know!!! That's why you guys, my lovely readers, need to help me out. Even if the story isn't your thing, I would really appreciate if you could tell me what you guys want to see next, or something like it. Happy ending? Sad ending? Whatever! Be as vague as you like. I just need a push in the right direction, because I don't want to write an ending that the people aren't going to enjoy or feel satisfied about. Am I taking this too serious? Yes. Am I extremely indecisive? Also yes. So please, throw me a bone here!! 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!! Please leave a comment letting me know what you think of the story. It really helps me to improve and continue writing other things too!


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